Gone in 30240 Seconds
by Andrew's Slinky
Summary: The Yin Yang killer has an apprentice, who wants to make his own mark on the pseudo-psychic and the world. Taking something that may never come back. Stealing a member of the team, leaving Shawn a shell, angry, and out for revenge. Can he save the team?
1. Chapter 1

Shawn watched as Antone was dragged towards the interrogation room in handcuffs, by a very irritated Lassiter. The tall Latino man had a manic sort of smile on his face as he passed the pseudo psychic and Shawn could never remember being so angry before.

He wanted to strangle Antone with his bare hands; and if he wasn't in the middle of a police station, with said man being dragged away in handcuffs, he probably would have.

"Spencer, you in on this?!" Lassiter demanded as he started down the steps and Shawn nodded, racing after him. He didn't have the presence of mind to be surprised that Lassiter was actually inviting him in on an interrogation.

"Yeah, I'm in Lassie."

Gus followed, right on his heels, the same manic glint to his eye, and if he wasn't plotting all the creative and painful ways he could kill Antone, like Shawn was; he wasn't that far from it.

Lassiter threw Antone into the interrogation room and into the metal chair on the far side of the table. He leaned heavily over said table and stared the man in the eye. His jaw clenched as that vein in his temple throbbed dangerously close to its breaking point. He wasted no time in asking what it was that he really wanted to know, throwing all interrogation technique and procedure out the window.

"Tell me where she is."

Antone stared up at him as though he couldn't care less. He merely shook his black hair out of his eyes and attempted to look bored with the entire situation.

Lassiter was not amused or deterred.

"Tell me where the hell she is, Antone, or I swear to God I'll…"

"You'll what, Detective? Shoot me?" was the antagonistic reply. Antone smirked; they had nothing on him and he knew it. All they had was some psychic and a crazed police detective.

"I just might, so don't tempt me Antone."

A raised eyebrow was the only suggestion that the man understood the threat.

-----

Shawn paced on the other side of the two way mirror, Gus a few steps away to give him his space.

"He isn't going to tell us where she is man, he just isn't."

Gus looked in at the man and shrugged, honestly having no idea about any of this.

"Maybe he doesn't even know," Shawn sent him such a violent look that he immediately amended his answer, "or he totally does and is going to crack any minute under the pressure of Lassiter's creepy forehead vein."

Shawn didn't even crack a smile; he just looked haggard and malnourished.

"I found him, Gus, I know this is the guy, Lassie just has to get him to confess to where she is."

Gus shrugged again as he peered through the two way mirror. Lassiter was yelling and even without Shawn pressing down on the intercom button they could hear what he was saying through the cement wall and thick wooden door.

"I want to know where she is and I want to know, now!"

Shawn shook his head, still pacing, still looking haggard and malnourished, but adding hopeless to the list.

"Yelling won't work; he isn't going to tell us, he isn't going to crack unless we actually have something to make him."

Gus was unsure as to what he was supposed to add to this conversation, and so he did the only thing that made any sense to him. He treated this case like any other one. He didn't treat it like a personal friend had gone missing about a month prior. He treated it like any other silly-there-might-be-a-ghost-in-my-attic case that he and Shawn usually got. He asked the questions that Shawn might have over-looked, or felt were irrelevant.

"Okay, so if we want him to crack, what will make him?"

Shawn stopped pacing long enough to look at his lifetime best friend and sigh before resuming his pacing, only now with crazy mutterings under his breath and his arms waving about like a diseased albatross attempting to take flight. He scratched his chin, ran his fingers through his hair, did his classic "psych" pose. Everything that he usually did to help him think; and then a memory flashed back to him.

~_ "Gabriel Antone, you're coming with us." Lassiter cuffed his hands behind his back with much more force and slightly manic glee than entirely necessary._

"_For what charges?"_ _Antone questioned nonchalantly._

_Shawn felt like he was going to throw up. Gus looked just as green around the gills as he felt and Lassiter looked like he was about to commit murder._

"_How about aiding and abetting a dangerous fugitive, for starters?" the Irish cop suggested snidely and Antone looked subtly confused._

"_Fugitive?" he asked, as though he didn't know what or who they were talking about. Lassiter tightened the cuffs as he dragged the suspect out to his maroon car and tossed him in the back seat; reading him his rights along the way._

"_Yeah, the Ying Yang killer; we know you were working with her."_

_Antone looked properly pale at that._

"_I didn't tell you guys nothin'."_

_Lassiter just slammed the car door. ~_

Shawn looked up at Gus with the first ghost of a smile he'd worn in weeks.

"Ying Yang, that's his weakness, he wants her to be proud of him, to know that he's on her side, not ours."

Gus quickly jumped on the bandwagon, as he always did, and for once Shawn was immensely grateful that he had such a great best friend.

"He craves her approval."

"Yes, Gus, exactly, so pretend like she's not proud of him for his little stunt; pretend that she flipped him over to us, or pretend that we told her he was the one who did the flipping."

Gus smiled, nodding, "I like that, call Lassiter, we'll tell him."

But Shawn was already swaggering through the interrogation room doors, and for once in their entire working relationship, Lassiter did not yell at him for doing so, if anything, he looked relieved the psychic was there.

"Want to know a secret, Antone?" he questioned almost sweetly, and both Gus and Lassiter leaned against the wall, their arms crossed, watching the events unfold.

"I'm not really that big on secrets," Antone replied snippily. Shawn smiled and it very obviously unnerved even the career criminal.

"Well, you see, it isn't really a secret, the whole department knows."

Antone looked slightly intrigued and so Shawn continued.

"Everyone in this room knows, except you, sucks doesn't it?"

Antone stood violently but Shawn didn't back up, he was on a role, angry, and not to be messed with. Instead of fleeing (as per usual for the psychic) he took a step into Antone's space, his expression unimpressed, unintimidated, and even. Antone slowly sat back down and Shawn's impish smile returned.

"Ying told us all about you."

As much as the Latino man attempted to look nonchalant and uninterested, his discomfiture was obvious. Shawn grinned widely again.

"She told us where you were, how to find you, all of it. She's the reason you're here."

"No." it was the defiant plea of a desperate man.

"Yes, yes she did, just ask Detective Lassiter. We didn't have to do anything. I didn't need a vision, and Lassie didn't need his badge. Because your mentor, that woman that you'd go to jail for, tossed you aside for a better deal. She threw your body under the bus to save her own ass."

"No, no I don't believe you."

"Well it doesn't much matter at this point, because it's been done, the D.A. already struck up a deal with her. You're done for."

Antone shook; his face and knuckles a similar shade of white. Shawn could see the wheels spinning in his head, attempting to figure out what to do.

Lassiter came up behind Shawn and clapped him on the shoulder.

"The only way to save yourself from a needle, Antone, is to tell us where she is."

Antone looked unsure for a moment, and then his muddled and betrayed mind focused on Lassiter's words. _THE NEEDLE._ He couldn't let that happen.

"She's in warehouse six on Fisro Boulevard. But I got workers there, and they're not supposed to allow trespassers."

Lassiter put a hand on his gun and started out the door, Shawn and Gus on his heels. The way Lassiter gripped his gun spoke volumes of what he would do to any "worker" who attempted to stop him from entering warehouse six.

"You better hurry; she only has about a half hour worth of air left."

The men ignored him until they reached the hallway, Buzz and a few other uniforms standing guard over Antone.

"How long does it take to get to Fisro from here?" Gus questioned as they all continued to Lassiter's car. Each of them thinking the exact same thing. What if they didn't make it?

They got in.

"Fifteen minutes without traffic or a police light," was Lassiter's gruff response. Shawn paled.

"And with a police light?"

Lassiter switched it on along with his siren and pulled out of the station.

"Eight minutes tops."

He picked up his radio and called for an ambulance and backup. Looking very much like a badass, and if Shawn wasn't so worried, he would have told him so.

-------------------------------------------------One Month Prior-------------------------------------------------------

Juliet sighed heavily and tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. God she was…disappointed. Or happy and thrilled. She was unsure. Disappointed in the one hand that she had waited so damn long. Why did she do that? She had known with the whole Luntz thing. The moment that he had given her a hotdog and taken her for a walk just on the edge of the beach. She'd figured it out then. Why didn't she do anything about it?

She was a coward.

She had missed her chance.

She felt like curling into a ball and crying.

And what was worse was she was happy for him.

He had grown up and stepped up. Abigail was lucky woman. She wanted to hate her, and couldn't.

The whole damn situation was just unfair.

He'd told her he wanted her to be happy. Why hadn't she told him that _he_ made her happy? Why? Why? Why! Those simple words and she could be with him, laughing and watching a movie. Happy for the first time in a very very long time.

She'd known for a long time that the pair of them would be a formidable couple, that they would be able to do anything together, that they would last.

She'd ruined it. All because she was too much of a coward to go for what she wanted when it came to her love life. And she was happy for him, because he deserved a steady influence in his life, he deserved to be happy, and she wanted him to be.

She really wanted him to be happy with her, but this…as much as it made her sick to her stomach, she'd let him be happy with Abigail.

"Detective O'Hara?"

She turned, looking up at a tall Latino man, his eyes dark and glinting, tattoos crawling all over his body, even up his neck. She gulped and wished that she was carrying her badge and weapon. She wasn't.

"Can I help you?" she closed her hand over her keys, mentally calculating how long it would take her to run to her car.

"You work with Shawn Spencer, the psychic, right?" he asked her and she felt herself start to relax.

"Yes." Was he just a fan of their work? Of Shawn's? Maybe she was just being paranoid, the grip on her keys relaxed.

"I thought you did." He grinned at her and took a step closer. A cold feeling snaked down her spine and her eyes darted around, looking for her car. Where had she parked?

He reached out to her and before she could scream had a white cloth over her mouth. She raised her hands to fight him off, but he was bigger, stronger. Her arms were pinned to her sides, and she struggled, but slowly her mind was becoming fuzzy.

Where was she? How had she gotten here?

Then darkness enveloped her.

-----

She woke up later, unsure as to how much time had lapsed between the drive in parking lot, and wherever it was that she was now. It was a relatively large room, with a cot, a chair, and a table. She sat up slowly, her eyes focusing on the room as she went into "cop" mode and ignored the pounding headache she had.

One window, high, small, and dirty, barely letting in any light, and certainly too high for her to get to even if she stacked every piece of furniture in the room to attempt to reach it; there was a door across from her, and slowly she stood, her heart beating in her throat. She reached out, touched the doorknob, everything seemed normal about the door and slowly she started to turn the knob.

It stopped.

She jerked the door.

Locked. The door was locked.

Her stomach lurched as her headache intensified and her heart pounded harder in her throat. She was locked in this room, alone, and she had no idea where she was, how long she'd been there, or if anyone even knew she was missing. Would Shawn notice? Would Lassiter? Gus, Chief Vick?

She felt even sicker when she remembered something.

She had three days of vacation time; she'd taken them the same day she'd asked Shawn out. No one would be expecting her at work until the three days were up, and then they'd start to get suspicious. It could take them a week to notice she'd gone missing. Cases went cold in less time than that. They'd never find her.

She searched her pockets.

Empty.

Her purse was gone too, no cell phone, no flash light, no I.D. She was completely alone.

She backed up, tears pricking her eyes. She sat down slowly on the bed and cried.

She was such a coward sometimes.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Okay, so this is my next attempt at a multiple chapter Psych fic, and I know that I've been ignoring Shules for the longest time, but this idea popped into my head and I just couldn't let it go. So I wrote it down, I hope that this first chapter isn't too confusing, and hopefully this fic will go over as well as Juliet? Juliet Who? Did. And hopefully I'll be able to update faster.

Leave me a review please.

~Andrew's Slinky


	2. Chapter 2

Juliet woke up what seemed like hours later, but she couldn't be certain of exactly how much time had passed. The window was letting in a little light, but she was unsure if it was the day beginning or ending. Perhaps she'd been in the room for weeks. It was impossible to tell.

She sat up slowly and looked around the room again, now that she was calmer, she attempted to look for something that would allow her to escape, or at the very least contact help.

No such luck.

The room looked exactly as it had the night before. Only even more sinister. She pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs, attempting, in vain, to shrink into herself. She didn't know what to do; she didn't know how to respond. And she always knew what to do, always knew how to respond to a situation. It was what made her a good cop.

But this she couldn't handle.

This was scary and new and she was pretty sure that her heart had just leapt out her throat and through the window. And she had no idea how to get it back into the room, let alone back into her chest where it belonged. And when exactly had her life gotten so damn crazy and complicated, anyway? Why in the hell had she left Miami? Why in the hell had she decided to be a cop? Why in the hell had she chosen that day of all days to ask out Shawn?

She started to hyperventilate as her thoughts raced around quicker than cheetahs chasing gazelles. She rocked back and forth, her arms still wrapped tightly around her legs as tears carved harsh paths down her cheeks.

What the hell was she going to do?

Where was she? Who had her? Did anyone notice that she was gone? Did they even care? Who was going to take care of her cats if she didn't make it back home? Was she going to die in this room?

She firmly shook that thought out of her head. No. She was not going to die, Shawn would notice she was gone, he would notice. If there was one person in the entire world that she could count on to realize that she wasn't around, it was Shawn Spencer.

* * *

Shawn woke up the next morning, after a rather interesting first date with Abigail, and smiled. He felt good, there was a weight lifted off his chest now. Sure, he had to break Juliet's heart to get a grip on Abigail's, but he had stood Abigail up all those years ago. It was almost worth it to see the smile in her eyes when he'd been there. Almost. It would all have been fine if she hadn't kissed him. He could have kept his heart safe from her if only she hadn't kissed him. He'd dreamed of kissing Juliet for so long that he was completely sure that he could have resisted anything, could have resisted her, if only she hadn't kissed him.

Now.

Now he wasn't so sure about resisting. He was sure about Abigail though. She had such a better arsenal of obscure references than Jules, and she knew him from his younger days, and was willing to forgive him for standing her up. But she didn't have Jules's pretty blonde hair, or heart stopping smile, or silly backwoods sayings. She didn't surprise him like Juliet did. She didn't instill fear like Juliet either.

He grimaced as his head pounded, demanding he stop his comparisons before he got anymore confused. So he did as told and rolled out of bed to get a shower and some breakfast, determinedly humming the theme from Dallas and ignoring any thoughts of women.

* * *

An hour later and Juliet was up and pacing. She was not going to give in to the fear that choked her. She was not going to do it. She was braver than that, she was better than that. She could do this. She could survive until help managed to get to her. She could do it. She had picked up and moved to the opposite end of the country after a really bad breakup, all by herself. She had gotten her own apartment, started her own life, and become the partner of an extremely volatile and grumpy man licensed to carry a gun. She had survived all of that, she could survive this. She just had to keep her thoughts in order and cling to hope.

Hope was what would get her through this, staying positive would keep her alive and sane, and right now that was all that mattered. She just had to stay alive and sane, and let her friends do the rest.

The door rattled, breaking through her thoughts and she jumped. She turned towards the grey painted slab of wood with wide Bambi eyes, her heart beating erratically in her chest, her breath ragged. Gods did she wish she had her gun right now.

The door rattled again before opening.

She flattened herself against the furthest wall as a tall Latino man entered, the same man who had attacked her in the parking lot. The same man who had covered her mouth with chloroform and had had the coldness of heart just to hold onto her as she vainly struggled against him. She would never understand people like him. She would never understand criminals who seemed to have no soul.

"Detective," he greeted her with a nod of the head.

She remained motionless, carefully waiting for a cue from him, or, if she was really lucky, a chance to escape.

"What? No good morning for me?" he asked her mockingly and she resisted the urge to mouth off. She had no idea what this man had in store for her and she would not be doing anyone any favors by provoking him into violence.

He was a smarmy son-of-a-bitch.

"Well now that's just bad manners. Your mother would be disappointed if she could see you now," he clucked his tongue, shaking his head at her.

Her thoughts rested for just a moment on her family, and her heart, still beating erratically, dropped to the pit of her stomach at the thought of this man anywhere near any member of her family. The cop in her reared up as she went into a mode she could handle well: protective.

"My mother doesn't need to be involved."

He smirked, still standing in the open doorway, teasing her with a way out, but blocking it with his intimidating presence.

"Doesn't she? She should know just how much you took her little lessons on etiquette to heart."

He was teasing her! He had her alone in this hell hole and he had the nerve, the balls, to tease her! She had never wished for the well-worn and familiar handle to her pistol more than she was at this moment.

She chose not to reply. He simply smirked and closed the door, taking several large steps across the room as Juliet attempted to melt into the wall behind her, fighting the urge to close her eyes and show her fear.

* * *

Shawn hummed cheerily to himself as he sat in the Psych office, playing Sudoku on his computer. He glanced over at Gus, who was staring at him intently, and then went right back to his puzzle, he was not going to talk about what he knew his lifelong best friend wanted to talk about.

"Shawn?"

Burton Guster was being ignored and he did not appreciate it.

"Shawn!"

Shawn finally looked up, his eyes expectant.

"What?" he asked.

Gus glared at him for a moment, "Have you talked to Juliet?"

Shawn scoffed.

"Gus don't be a disgusting lime skittle, of course I haven't."

"Shawn, you need to talk to her, she needs…"

"Gus, leave it alone."

Gus rolled his eyes and flipped through the paper, attempting to let the subject drop, but he couldn't. He knew Shawn's feelings for Juliet, and after Shawn had told him the entire story of their night at the drive-in, he knew Juliet felt the same. The pair were in love with each other, only they weren't together.

"Shawn, she needs you to talk to her."

"Dude, no she doesn't, Jules can handle herself."

Gus sighed and went back to his paper, unconvinced.

* * *

Finally! Another chapter up! I know this is long overdue, but I had an original direction for this story, and then I realized it wasn't going to work, so I had to revamp the entire thing, but fortunately, the first chapter still worked so I didn't have to change it. But I did have to write this one five times, literally, and I know its short, but I will really try to make them longer. I hope you guys still want to read this cause now I'm excited about it! So please read and review.

~Andrew's Slinky


	3. Chapter 3

Detective Carlton Lassiter groaned as he exited his maroon car and started up the steps of the Santa Barbara Police Department. He had hardly gotten any sleep since the wrap up of the Yin Yang case, and although he would normally thrive on the attention he had been receiving from the arrest, and the fact that he had stopped a serial killer, he found himself grouchier than usual. His back hurt, his knees hurt, his head hurt, and, despite his best intentions to be otherwise, he was a little worried about his partner. Although he attempted to discourage any sort of personal information between him and his partner; Juliet had spilled her guts to him. Juliet had gone to tell Spencer her feelings and he was assuming it hadn't gone well. She hadn't called him in hysterics though, and he counted that as a plus, she had his home number for emergencies and although he did not really want to hear anything about her relationship with Spencer he wasn't so cold hearted as to not feel her pain if that idiot broke her heart. But he counted no phone call from her as a plus, although the unsettling feeling that was snaking up his spine was difficult to ignore. But somehow he managed to shake it off and head inside, determined to concentrate on his work and nothing else.

* * *

Shawn whistled a blissful tune to himself as he got on his bike and headed off towards the police department. He was off to collect his check for the Yin Yang case and then to lunch with Abigail. It was a gorgeous sunny day and he was in an unstoppable good mood, nothing could bring him down except for maybe the memory of Juliet's dejected face and tear filled eyes as she walked away from him. Yeah, that image could definitely bring him down, but maybe he wouldn't have to see her today, maybe he could get in, get out and he wouldn't have to look in her big blue eyes and know he'd broken her heart. Maybe he could ignore the guilt that was curdling like too old milk in his insides. Maybe Lassiter didn't know that he'd personally destroyed the detective's partner and wouldn't pull his gun on him and shoot him right there, mostly because he had an excuse now.

Yeah, right, he knew better, he could never resist a chance to see Juliet, and since he couldn't, he knew that guilt was only going to heat up. (Maybe Lassie would shoot him.) And he wasn't going to read anything into that thought either, it did not mean that he had made a mistake turning down Juliet for Abigail, no, he was sure it didn't.

If only he believed himself.

He arrived in the police parking lot and removed his helmet, still whistling (determined to at the very least pretend that the whole situation wasn't effecting him) as he bounded up the front steps of the police department. He waltzed through the front doors and smiled at Buzz as he passed, headed for Juliet and Lassie's desks, having no thought that it may be cruel to Juliet to show up all smiles over his new girl. He bounced into the pit in his usual manner and sat on the corner of Lassiter's desk like a sexy secretary, glancing over at Juliet's desk only to find it empty.

"Spencer," Lassiter growled under his breath, not bothering to look up from his paperwork, "I don't have time for you today."

Shawn ignored the jab and kept looking at Juliet's desk, empty and untouched; she hadn't been in all day. That thought was…unsettling and he was unsure of what to do with it, other than to ask the obvious of the man before him.

"Where's Jules?"

Lassiter ignored him, continuing to fill out his paperwork. Shawn felt something nag in the back of his brain but he couldn't quite put his finger on it, and that was far more annoying than he'd realized. What was he forgetting? He never forgot, one of the perks of an eidetic memory.

"Lassie, where's Jules?" He asked again, insistent.

Lassiter sighed in an irritated manner and slammed his pen down on the desk, finally looking up at Shawn, his eyes sparking in annoyance.

"Dammit Spencer, go away!"

Shawn got off his desk but didn't move any farther than that, he was far too curious for such things now, no matter how terrifying Lassie's eyes were.

"Where's Jules, Lassie?"

"She has the day off Spencer, and the next two after it, she deserves the vacation if you ask me," the grumpy Irish detective went back to his paperwork and ignoring the pseudo psychic next to his desk. He knew that since Shawn was here alone, and asking for Jules, that the blonde's attempt to tell the annoying man before him her feelings hadn't gone well. And as her partner, and begrudgingly, her friend, he wasn't going to supply Shawn with any more information on the distraught woman than was entirely necessary. He could protect her when she wasn't here to protect herself, after all, it was his job.

"Oh," Shawn replied as he walked towards the front desk to receive his check, his brow furrowed as he attempted to put his finger on what was bothering him, but it only gave him a headache.

* * *

Juliet sat on the cot, her knees drawn up to her chin, her detective mind going into overdrive in an attempt to find a way out. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, attempting to concentrate. Her head was pounding too hard, she couldn't think, she almost couldn't breathe. She knew that she needed to meditate or pace or throw things or _something_ in order to calm herself down, otherwise she was going to go into some form of shock.

She wouldn't give her captor the satisfaction.

Almost as if he could sense that her thoughts had landed on him, the man from earlier opened the door again and stalked into the room, a sad little smile on his face. He shut the door behind him with an ominous click and Juliet shivered.

"Good morning, detective, how are we today?" he asked her softly, like he was some sort of friend, someone who cared about her well being instead of the man who had kidnapped her and was currently holding her hostage.

She didn't answer him.

She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her squirm. She could ignore him, she could. There was Irish and Scottish heritage mixing its way through her veins and even though her hair wasn't red, her skin wasn't freckled, she _was_ stubborn as hell. Besides, she had grown up with all brothers; the cold shoulder was a specialty that she excelled at as though she'd invented the entire procedure and she would do it gladly now.

The bastard across from her could rot in the deepest circle of hell.

"Oh now Juliet, is that any way to treat the man who's taking care of you?"

She looked over at him sharply but still refused to speak a single word. He seemed to understand and nodded, smirking at her.

"I knew you'd be a handful, that's why I decided to take you, well, that and you're a favorite of Spencer's."

Juliet's heart skipped a beat or two and she swallowed hard. Shawn? What the hell did he know about Shawn? And what did he mean she was a "favorite?" A cold thought echoed through her mind and trickled down her spine slowly, sending a horrible series of shivers through her that she managed to squash before allowing them to overtake her body. Did he mean that Shawn was behind all of this?

No.

She dismissed the idea faster than it had taken her to come up with it. Shawn cared about her, not in the way she cared about him, but he did care. He was a good man and there was no way that he would do anything to consciously hurt her or anyone else.

No, Shawn wasn't behind this, but the man before her obviously knew of him. She looked up into his dark eyes, dark eyes that were cold and unfeeling.

"I like strong women," he confided in her as he leaned close, Juliet resisted the urge to back away, and she wouldn't let him intimidate her, "They're so much more fun to break."

Juliet's heart leapt in her chest and threatened to choke her; she swallowed it back down with some difficulty. What exactly did he mean by "break?" She was nearly sick at the thought.

Her captor seemed to feel that this was more than enough information for the day, smiled down at his prey and ruffled her hair almost affectionately before turning on his heel and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.

Juliet fixed her hair diligently, even though there was no mirror and she had no idea how she really looked, but it made her feel better.

She curled in on herself again and sighed quietly, shutting her eyes softly, willing up happy images of Shawn, Gus, Lassie, and her family to keep her company in the cold expanse of room.

* * *

OMG, I know this is totally late, and I could give you a huge list of reasons as to why it is, but, well, it's up now, so let's just leave it at that, mmmkay?

Anyway, I really hope that you guys are still with me and still liking this story.

Read and Review my Darlings!

~Andrew's Slinky


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